The Milking Of Eamonn !

It was a Sunday evening in August. Eamonn Tunney, a well-built sixty two year old, got out of his car, a big smile on his face. He was wearing a light blue shirt and grey trousers, the fabric of his shirt straining over his cannonball gut and the shirt buttons ready to pop. He was every inch the big bellied farmer.
He had come to do a job of work for fellow farmer, Johnny Kelly, another big hunk of a man, who wearing tee shirt, jeans and Wellington boots. Johnny was younger - just turned fifty - but equally well-built with a nice belly on him. He had played rugby in his younger days and was still a combination of muscles and beef.
Johnny watched as Eamonn got out of the car and went to the boot. His manhood was stirring in his jeans. Johnny loved big bellied farmers and Eamonn was a prime specimen.
“Are you going to do the job now?” asked Johnny
“I might as well – it’ll save me a second trip.”
“You’ll need Wellingtons – it’s very mucky around the drinking trough.”
“I have a pair in the boot – as well as some overalls.”
This was a like a dream come through for Johnny. His cock hardened as he watched Eamonn slip off his shoes and struggle into the overalls – the big farmer’s gut putting even more pressure on the shirt buttons and straining against the fabric. For a few seconds the outline of Eamonn’s dick could be seen in the trousers as it caught in the folds of the overalls. Was Eamonn hard? Johnny liked to think so.
Then Eamonn put on his dirty black Wellington boots, his thick legs fitting tightly into them. What a hot fucker! By now, Johnny was getting harder and slightly dripping precum. He got even harder when Eamonn bent over to pick up his shoes off the ground and his big ass stretched the blue fabric of the overalls.

*

Half an hour later, the job was finished and Eamonn stood proudly at the drinking trough, his Wellington boots planted in the soft mud.
“It should work now, Johnny,” said Eamonn, opening the buttons of his overalls. “I’m fucking soaked with sweat”.
Johnny took a deep breath when he heard this.
“Thanks for everything, Eamonn. I really appreciate you helping me out like this. I’m useless with plumbing!”
The only plumbing on Johnny’s mind was the plumbing between Eamonn’s legs. He had been watching Eamonn admiringly and lustily for the previous half hour, his eyes having mentally undressed the big bellied farmer and his fantasies having milked him dry. As a result Johnny was getting harder and soaking wet with precum.
“Your gut’s getting bigger,” said Johnny, playfully slapping Eamonn’s belly.
“It took a lot of effort to get it that big.”
“Have you, eh, ever taken a punch in it?”
“A few times. I remember one time this fella nailed me with a sucker punch. He buckled me! I couldn’t straighten for ten minutes. Mind you, I got him back a few days later with a knee in the balls. He didn’t do it again.”
Johnny took another deep breath and tried to discreetly re-arrange the position of his hard dick.
“Have you ever done any wrestling?” asked Johnny, tentatively.
“Oh, yeh, I’ve done a bit of tussling.”
“Do you think you could take me on?”
“Easy! I could take you down.”
“Prove it!”
“Here and now?!”
“Why not? Come on, let’s find a bit of clear ground. And I’ll take you down!”

*

Johnny couldn’t believe his luck. He was about to get his hands on beefy big bellied Eamonn and by now he was rock hard.
The two men locked hands and began a titanic test of strength. There was much grimacing and heavy breathing as the two farmers struggled to gain the upper hand, their Wellington boots slipping in the wet grass.
Johnny managed to get his arms around Eamonn’s waist and began to bearhug the big bellied farmer, squeezing him tighter and tighter. Their bellies bonded in the tight hold as Johnny applied the pressure. Eamonn’s face contorted in pain as he struggled to free himself, his mouth open, gulping for air. Then their clean-shaven, rough-skinned faces touched as Johnny’s hardon pressed against Eamonn’s thigh.
“You horny fucker,” gasped Eamonn, struggling to speak “You’re hard!”
“Like steel, you big bellied fucker!”
Johnny sqeezed and squeezed the big bellied bellied farmer tighter and tighter to him as he rubbed his hardon up and down Eamonn’s thigh. Then Johnny’s loaded ball sacs exploded in his jeans. He groaned as he shot his big load, releasing his grip on Eamonn, who sank to the ground.
“You kinky fucker, Kelly!” gasped Eamonn, cradling his belly. “You used me to get your rocks off!”
“Guilty as charged, Eamonn! And it felt so good. The wife is good, but you’re better!”
Still gasping, Eamonn struggled to his feet.
“I wish I could get off like that, I haven’t had a good hardon in months. The diabetes is playing havoc with it.”
“I’ll make you hard, Tunney! And then I’ll milk you dry!”
“Big talk!”
“I can back it up! And I’ve been wanting to milk the fuck out of you for a long time! And after the load I’ve shot, I’m just in the mood!”

*
Johnny eased Eamonn back against the ditch, opened the remaining buttons of his overalls down to the crotch, reached between his legs and felt his cock and balls through the trousers fabric.
“I’ve wanted to get my hands on these beauties for a long time!” said Johnny, giving Eamonn’s equipment a good squeeze.
Eamonn grimaced.
“Just take out the lad and get it over with!” he said, abruptly.
“Oh no, big boy! I’m going to take my time!”
Johnny started to undo Eamonn’s shirt buttons, one by one. The shirt was soaked with sweat and the big farmer’s hard nipples were framed in the nylon fabric. Eamonn’s big beefy body was glistening with sweat – the matted grey hair on his chest was drenched; droplets had formed on each nipple; and his cannonball gut was soaking wet.
Johnny started licking Eamonn’s chest and gut, pausing to tongue his gut-hole and chew and bite his nipples, while his right hand pumped the big farmer’s hardening tool through the trousers fabric.
Eamonn moaned and started to writhe against the ditch, his muddy Wellington boots squeaking in the wet grass.
“Ooooo!!! Aaaaa!!! Awww!!! Yeh, that’s good!!! Oh, yeh!!! Ooooooaawwaaaaaaaaa!!! Oh, fuck ya, Kelly, let the lad out! I’m bursting!””
“Not yet, big boy! Not yet!”
Johnny rubbed his cheek against Eamonn’s smooth cannonball gut.
“Mmmmmm,” said Johnny. “I’ve wanked thinking about you, you big bellied fucker! Thinking about you out on the farm in work clothes and wellies and getting into an argument with a couple of big truckers, who then double-teamed you and took your gut apart, punch by punch….and then milked you.”
At these words, Johnny pumped Eamonn’s tool harder and harder until it was like a tentpole in the trousers.
“Aaaaawwwwww,* moaned Eamonn. “Let the lad out, for fuck’s sake!”
“All right”.
Johnny undid Eamonn’s belt and opened his zipper. The big bellied farmer’s hardened uncut wet veined seven incher sprang out. Johnny then pulled Eamonn’s two big hairy balls out.
“Oh, that’s a relief!”
Johnny took Eamonn’s tool in his right hand and pulled back the foreskin to reveal the wet pink cockhead drenched in precum, which was trickling out of the piss slit. Then he sucked all around the juicy top as if he was sucking an ice pop, all the while pumping the aching, throbbing shaft further down with his big rough hand while squeezing the jovial farmer’s big hairy balls with the other. Seconds later he began tonguing the big bellied farmer’s piss slit. This sent Eamonn wild making him moan and groan and writhe against the ditch.
“Oooooooh!! Aaaaah!!!!!! Awwwwwwwwww!!! Oh Jesus!!! Fuck you, Kelly! Where did you learn to do that with your tongue? Oh yeh!!! Yeh!!!!!! Aw yeh!!!!!!”
Eamonn was still moaning and groaning helplessly as Johnny took the thick seven incher into his hot mouth – all the way down to the pubic hair – sucking the big affable farmer’s juicy rod hard and deep.
“That’s it, Kelly!! Oh, yeh!!!!! Yeh!!!! That’s it!!! Harder!!!!! Harder!!!! Deeper!!!! Deeper!!!!!!!!! Oooooooooh!!!!! Aaaaah!!! Aaaaawww!!!!! Yeh!!!!
Then Eamonn grabbed Johnny’s hair and held his head down on the aching throbbing tool, making the tough farmer gag. But Johnny was quick-thinking – he grabbed and squeezed Eamonn’s balls to force him to release his grip.
“You big bellied bastard, Tunney!” said Johnny, raising his head and spluttering.
“Aren’t you man enough for the job? You’ll have to be tough to get Eamonn Tunney’s load.”
“Oh, I’ll get it this time,” said Johnny, pulling a plastic glove from his pocket and fitting it on his right hand.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“You’ll see or should that be ‘feel’. Now, let’s see how tough you are, big boy!”
“You had this planned, you bastard! You came prepared!”
“I used to be a boy scout!”
Johnny began pumping Eamonn’s boner with his left hand, while working his gloved right hand under the big farmer’s balls and between his legs. Prising Eamonn’s tight buttocks apart, he pushed his thick forefinger up the big farmer’s ass – forcing the finger up and up and up until he touched Eamonn’s very soul.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaoooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!” moaned Eamonn. “Oh, fuck!”
“Now, you know how them cows of yours feel when the bull gets at them! Not so tough now, big boy!! Now, let’s see if you’re ticklish.”
“Awwwwwwwww, you bastard!!!! Aw yeh!!! Aw yeh!!! Sweet Jesus!!!! Fucking hell!!! Oh God!!! Yeh!!!! Aw yeh!!!!
Johnny wiggled his finger inside Eamonn’s ass causing an incredible tickling sensation. The big bellied farmer had never felt anything like it before. His moans were incredible. He tried to hold his load, but he knew he couldn’t.
“Jesus, I’m cumming!!! I’m cumming!!!!! I’m cumming!!!!!!!”
“I’ll be ready for you, big boy!”
Johnny fixed his mouth around Eamonn’s cock as the big bellied farmer’s balls literally exploded, shuddering and going into spasms. Eamonn moaned to the heavens.
“Oh, Sweet Mother of Divine Fuck!!!!”
The first jet of cream came so fast that it hit the back of Johnny’s throat. He gulped it down and tried to swallow the rest, but the juice just kept coming as Eamonn’s big balls continued to empty. The cream was everywhere – down Eamonn’s shaft; into his pubic hairs and onto his balls; down Johnny’s chin and dripping on Eamonn’s dirty Wellingtons.
“Oh God, that was incredible!” moaned Eamonn, leaning against the ditch for support. His body was soaked in sweat and his big cannonball gut was heaving up and down . “I’ve never shot a load like that before, Never! Not even on my wedding night! You’re some fucker, Kelly! My balls are paining me they’re so empty. And my dick feels like it’s on fire.”
Johnny removed his finger from Eamonn’s ass and discarded the glove. He proceeded to lick the big farmer’s cock and balls dry. He wiped his own chin with the back of his hand and invited Eamonn to lick the residue.
“Tasty!” gasped Eamonn, still short of breath, as he licked the back of Johnny’s hand.
“Now, shur, there’s nothing wrong with your equipment – it just needed the right handling.”
“Oh, fuck! I’ve never had such a milking! I’m hardly able to stand.”
“And you’re all sweaty, too. Let me dry you off.!
Johnny licked Eamonn’s upper body dry, paying particular to his smooth cannonball gut.
“I’d love to hire a couple of guys to work that gut over – and let me watch and wank while they did it.”
“In your dreams, Kelly!” said Eamonn, putting away his equipment and zipping up his trousers.
“Oh, I’ll be dreaming about it – and wanking – and remembering this evening!”